Elrohee
by HeCallsMeHisChild
Summary: Story 3 of the His Names series. Red chafes at the restrictions of life on the run, hiding and doing nothing for days at a time when he feels he should be talking about what he's learned. Is there more to do, he wonders, or has he just ended up being a figurehead for "the other side"?


**Note:** Welcome to the **third** installment in the His Names series! I know I've hinted at this for ages to some of you who have messaged me, and here it finally is. Couple of notes. One is that this is not my main fic at the moment, so it will be updating slowly and sporadically, you have been warned. Second is that I only have a fragment of an idea where this is going… but hey, that's how the other two started too, so let's hope that's still a good thing. Third is my standard I-am-no-theologian-just-a-messed-up-person-trying-to-process-her-faith disclaimer. Fourth is that you can thank Zoran-Royalty on Tumblr for prodding me, off and on, to continue this series and for helping me brainstorm when I felt super stuck. That being said, buckle up. Let's see where this goes.

….

It shouldn't matter so much, Dantie thought with a scowl. The group they'd found was so small that he could count them on both hands, and yet he'd been ordered to rent a questionably stained room in back of a bar serving questionable substances, parting with quite a bit more of their precious monies than the place was worth. It didn't justify the risk. Not for such a meager showing.

"Besides," he'd argued, "They already _know_ the truth, we don't need to waste time convincing them!"

His leader had only smiled, pulling a ragged cloak tighter. "Convincing, Dantie, is not the same thing as encouragement. El knows they need some of that."

It was madness. If Tallest Red thought to ease his shame by stooping to help every single Krissirk they could dig from the crusted cracks of each asteroid watchpost they passed, he would never accomplish what Elyon had set him to do in the first place! But Red was his Tallest, still, and he would follow him, mad or no, to every watchpost in the galaxy if he had to.

"The hunch of your shoulders is shouting." This from the diminutive Irken who perched atop two stacked barrels that teetered precariously anytime she twitched.

Dantie leaned against the stack, wedging the barrels firmly against the back corner. "Careful where you pick your post."

"Are you even listening to a single word?" Counselor Traz watched him, unblinking.

Dantie shifted his gaze to the front of the narrow room. Tallest Red crouched together with the five Irkens they'd coaxed into coming. Wrapped in rough cloth and hunched over, he cut a comical figure with his wide-sweeping gestures and emphatic head jerks as he retold the story of how Elyon had given him the gift of Sight and come to meet him in person. And always, as he did, he left room toward the end of his tale for a brief moment of silence, a remembrance for ex-Invader Zim and Human Dib who first came to tell them of Ayam.

"I've heard it all before," Dantie said. "I was there for a good part of it, too."

"But are you listening?" Traz sighed. "You have the Sight too, but I would wager you can't even see what is happening."

Dantie reacted to the challenge. "The Enemy hasn't reacted to our presence yet. They are busy in the front. This room is clear. What more is there to see?"

"Hope, Dantie." Traz leaned toward the edge of the barrel, and Dantie kept his arm in place to steady the stack. "Look at them. They came in holding themselves so tight they might shatter if you touched them. A crate creaked and they jumped like it was laser fire. But look at them, sunk into the story. Soft. And there, a smile."

"It isn't necessary!" Dantie repeated aloud, this time to Traz. "They are already on track, there are others who don't even know!"

Traz's eyes cut him with her censure. "Our Tallest is working both fronts, how is it you cannot understand? You cannot make a soldier and then send them unsupplied to an enemy planet, but you would have us churn out an army and leave them to march on their own!"

"It isn't the same!"

"It is!"

"And there in the back," Red's voice sliced through the tension, "are the very same IIN Reporter and High Councilor who survived our torture cells. I have come to rely on their steadfastness, but even more, I carry their forgiveness as a highly valuable prize."

Dantie dropped his eyes, his face burning. He hadn't suffered nearly as long as Traz, as the scars lacing every inch of her skin bore witness.

"And it will be the same with Elyon." Red's voice softened, his eyes unfocusing in recollection. Only once had he recounted the visceral details of his vision to Dantie, and Dantie's spooch tightened at the memory of what would have to be done to save Irk. "We won't understand what we're doing. I've seen it, huge crowds screaming for his execution. What he says will sound like treason and anarchy. We won't understand until it is too late and we have destroyed him."

"But how can we destroy him?" an irken in the circle squeaked. "He's too big to even understand, isn't that what the Letters say?"

"He is. But he will become irken. He has completed a similar mission for the race at the edge of the galaxy known as Humans, and he will do this for us."

"Will he do it for every planet? Every species?" another asked.

Red shook his head. "I don't know. I only know what he's showed me."

"Will he destroy us back?"

The sorrow faded from Red's face, and a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. "That's what a Tallest would do, isn't it? Wipe you out, level cities, burn up a planet. It's what _should_ happen." But he shook his head again. "But no. He will let it happen because it is the cost to free us."

Another sniffled. "I don't feel free. The broadcasts say the Krissirks are all working with the Resisty to destroy the Empire. Every day we get recordings of some rebel or another dragged in and executed. They mash the Resisty and Krissirks together so they can execute any Krissirk they catch, too." He balled his claws into a fist, blurting, "I don't even care about the Empire or the Resisty, I'm just trying to run my shop without getting reported!" His eyes darted up to Red and he presssed his claws to his mouth.

Red just set a hand on the irken's shoulder. "And what's your name?"

"M-Murt, My Tallest."

"Well, Murt, nobody can order you to blast into an asteroid field. Elyon made it clear he would never force anyone. Why did you decide to believe in Elyon?"

Murt blinked, incredulous. "Because you did, My Tallest."

Red yanked his claws back as if burned. Dantie tensed as Red turned his face around the circle. "Did… did all of you…"

They all nodded, eyes wide. Red pulled his claws in to his chest, a stricken expression on his face.

"Chew-shmoops, the lot of them!" Dantie muttered. "Can't cut clear of Tallest worship for two seconds to weigh this for themselves!"

Traz turned on him. "Says the IIN Reporter. You don't understand how long and hard the entire upper government has worked to establish Tallests as the dominant figure in every Irken brain-biological and mechanical. The Control Brains, the Council, and every Tallest for the last fifteen cycles has built up this concept, it won't be toppled overnight!"

Dantie opened his mouth to retort, but his glance snagged on the door. Specifically, the crack under it, which had begun to ooze a thick, gray cloud. "Traz, do you see that under the door?"

"No. What do we have?"

"Nothing good." Dantie threw a hand up to get Red's attention, drawing a claw across his neck and pointing to the gray cloud. If Traz didn't see it, then it was a warning that they were under less than friendly surveillance that would, likely, alert physical forces.

Red lurched up, still stooped over. "Time to go. Scatter as fast as you can. We'll try to come back when we can. Look for the bits of cleansing chalk. Stay safe."

Spooked, the others saluted Red and quickly filed out the back. Tallest Red reached out and grabbed Traz, placing her on his shoulders where she clung like a motgnat. The fog reached their feet, engulfing their ankles and surging upward. It offered no resistance as Tallest Red and Dantie exited, taking an immediate left and following a narrow alley around the perimeter of several filthbrick buildings. Soon the bar was far behind them, and no sign of pursuit.

Dantie paused to lean on a garbage receptacle, lifting an ankle to brush away some clinging fog. He could hear Counsellor Traz whispering urgently to Red. Red's shoulders sagged the more she talked.

"I don't _want_ to go back there," Red answered, petulantly. "There's nothing to do! I'm no good to anyone just burrowing underground, I have to be… I don't know, talking to irkens! Encouraging them! Reading them the Letters for the first time. I'm sick of the bunker, Traz."

One more check behind to be sure no one was following. All clear. Dantie approached Red. "My Tallest, whatever Counsellor Traz suggested is likely the best course of action. You're very conspicuous here."

Red gestured to his clothes. "I did the best I could."

"And no one says otherwise, My Tallest, but you are a Tallest and that attracts attention sooner or later."

Now Dantie could hear Traz clearly. "You did what you could for today, My Tallest."

Red's head drooped as he murmured, "Alright. Lead the way, Traz."


End file.
